


total gravitational attraction

by bookofthenightsky



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Cybertronian Knights, Jetfire's inadvisable curiosity, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Secrets, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threesomes, who knows what Starscream and Sunstorm's relationship is? Not Jetfire!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookofthenightsky/pseuds/bookofthenightsky
Summary: “Starscream,” Sunstorm said warningly before he could say anything, shifting closer.“What? You’ll know where he is.” Starscream looked over his wing at the golden seeker, perfectly arch. Then he glanced up at Jetfire again, garnet optics considering. Inspiration sparked in their depths, and Starscream smirked. “Or perhaps you’d like to accompany us?” he asked, turning until Sunstorm was no longer barred by his wing.
Relationships: Jetfire/Starscream, Jetfire/Starscream/Sunstorm, Jetfire/Sunstorm, Starscream/Sunstorm
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	total gravitational attraction

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started out as me throwing around some alternate Cybertronian religion and knight order thoughts around...as you can see, it drifted pretty far away from that. Happy holidays, I guess? Celebrate with some porn on me.

Jetfire ducked into one of the galleries and vented in relief when it was empty. Well, empty of all but paintings of the prim and proper lineage of the Lords and Ladies of Praxus, done in lush, jewel-bright oils.

Unfortunately, they also reminded him of what he had been studiously ignoring since the party had started. Formal paint _itched_. Especially on wings. And the bronze gear filled with constellations- Vector Prime’s symbol- was a pain to get right, even with Jetfire’s hard-won precision.

But this was Praxus’ court, and anything less than a perfect presentation was cause for well-hidden sneers at best. He’d been chosen to go with the Crystal City delegation because he was a good fighter and could contribute to the trade portion of the embassy both through his metallurgical knowledge and the fact that his alt cut travel times. He could put up with a little uncomfortable wing paint, if it meant getting the best materials for his work.

Besides, Perceptor was the one doing the actual negotiating. The unlucky mech had to do a full detailing with Alchemist’s patterns, because he was a telescope and in Praxus, lineage was everything. Jetfire was _so_ lucky not only to not have to do any of that, but also to be a descendant of Vector. The designs for the First Aerial were considerably more attractive.

Jetfire looked back into the ballroom, full of light and splendor and lovely Praxian crystals, and decided that he had fulfilled his flight orders. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t do to head back to the guest quarters at this hour of the evening. At least, not without _company_.

Still, this was Praxus. Jetfire could wander the palace crystal gardens until daybreak if he wanted to, and no native would bat an optic. He cross-referenced his internal map, then headed towards the stairwell at the opposite end of the gallery.

As soon as he stepped out into the staircase, only his well-honed sense of where things were in the air prevented him from getting knocked over by someone who was most decidedly not using the stairs properly. The other aerial, reacting on the same sensation, twisted so that he didn’t knee Jetfire in the face. The quick pirouette and light landing a few steps down the staircase- without hitting Jetfire- was a maneuver that Jetfire could never hope to emulate at his size class. But he could certainly appreciate it. Enough to cool his immediate impulse to scold for reckless behavior, at any rate.

“What are _you_ doing in the back stairs?” the seeker asked, vocalizer sounding quite smoke-roughened. It also gave away who he was, because Jetfire had been told some impressive stories about him.

Spywork was part and parcel of the diplomatic relations between city-states, of course. It wasn’t really Jetfire’s concern except for securing his workshop against intruders, but even _he_ had been warned against letting Starscream, information broker and weapons dealer of nowhere-in-particular, charm him into spilling technical information about his projects. Jetfire could see, now that he had met the mech in the metal, how someone could say far more than was prudent to these pretty, listening audials. His little demonstration of just how adept he was in the air had been enough to catch any flier’s optic.

“Heading to the crystal gardens,” Jetfire informed him. “What are _you_ doing diving down stairwells?” This was, if his internal map was correct, one of the Praxian palace’s central, hollow towers; made to accommodate construction builds and left more-or-less unchanged in case of major repairs or renovations. It was certainly big enough to fly in, but it was no Vosian aerie. Starscream could have knocked a smaller mech off of the stairs entirely, railings or no railings.

Starscream waved off the hint of disapproval in his tone. “It’s big enough to fly in, so why not? I wasn’t expecting anyone to use it during such a big event.” He and Jetfire actually shared the same main colors, white and scarlet, though Starscream also had enough plating painted blue to be a true tricolor, one of the less-common seeker patterns. He also had a variation of Vector’s formal paint in bright silver, pushing the edge between tradition and fashion. It suited him very well.

He had a point about the lack of people. But Jetfire wasn’t a grounder. Given a choice, aerials vastly preferred flying in the open. And Jetfire hadn’t seen him at the party, yet he was detailed as if he intended to go.

Of course, this could all be explained by Starscream being _exceptionally_ late, or having frequented the card party portion of the evening, which Jetfire hadn’t bothered to look into. Or…he could have been sneaking around and opening peoples’ correspondence or whatever it was spies did in someone else’s castle. 

His skepticism must have shown on his face or something, because Starscream’s wings perked with interest. “The crystal gardens, hmmm? Sounds like just the place for a little romance. Are you meeting up with someone?”

“No,” Jetfire said with equanimity. “I just think they’re pretty.”

Starscream swayed closer, tilting his wings to a flirtatious angle. Jetfire’s attention caught on the bold scarlet stripe that decorated them, twined with silver formal paint. Jetfire admitted to himself that he might be in trouble- he had a secret weakness for seeker wings.

“No one waiting for you at home?” Starscream continued, preening slightly under Jetfire’s appreciation.

“I can’t help but think you’re going somewhere with this,” Jetfire observed.

“Mmm.” Starscream swiped an azure finger along a white cheekguard, smiling when Jetfire didn’t rebuff him. He pushed himself up to the tips of his pedes and stole a kiss, lips still curved in that mischievous smile. Their vents mingled, Starscream’s smaller hand guiding him down until their mouths meshed and the seeker melted into him.

“Ah. Here you are.” Jetfire reeled back from the processor-numbing kiss at the reminder that he was in an open hallway letting a spy cozy up to him to avoid answering awkward questions. Embarrassment turned to mortification when he realized just who had caught them.

Crystal City was known for its scientists and alchemists and researchers, a place of learning and knowledge. But, like most cities, it was also the home of its own knight order: the Circle of Light. There was an old half-joking song around about the character of the knights of the various city-states, and the verse about Crystal City was more or less that her knights would beat you half to death in the morning and then finish you in the evening with tea and philosophy. From that perspective, Sunstorm played very close to type: politely formal and terrifyingly deadly.

He was also beautiful as dawnlight on the horizon (especially in his metallic gold formal paint) and flew like a hunting gyrofalcon, but Jetfire tried to keep that opinion to himself. No matter how widely it was shared. He had his dignity, after all; he couldn’t go staring after a pair of lovely wings.

He reminded himself very pointedly of that when Sunstorm looked down at the two of them and settled on Starscream. “What are you doing _now_?” Sunstorm asked, in the tones of someone who had asked the question a million times and was still going to be disappointed with the answer. It was not a tone you used with a passing acquaintance.

“What does it _look_ like?” Starscream responded challengingly. Jetfire hastily untangled himself from the seeker, leaving him pouting at the retreat. Jetfire could feel the hot flush across the thin plating of his face and wings. This was _so_ embarrassing!

“It looks like you are harassing a member of my city’s delegation,” Sunstorm said, descending the stairs until they were on the same level. He turned to Jetfire. “Jetfire, in the future please let someone know you are leaving. It is an imposition, I know, but we are not in Crystal City.”

And he was getting politely scolded by his crush, to go along with getting caught making out by him. Jetfire was going to _die_. Starscream looked at him like he could read Jetfire’s mind and it deeply amused him.

“I’m not _harassing_ ,” Starscream said, turning his back deliberately on Sunstorm and running a proprietary hand over Jetfire’s arm. “Would you like to be invited back to my room, Jetfire?”

That was a very promising smile, all sharp seeker fangs. “Starscream,” Sunstorm said warningly before he could say anything, shifting closer.

“What? You’ll know where he is.” Starscream looked over his wing at the golden seeker, perfectly arch. Then he glanced up at Jetfire again, garnet optics considering. Inspiration sparked in their depths, and Starscream smirked. “Or perhaps you’d like to accompany us?” he asked, turning until Sunstorm was no longer barred by his wing.

“I beg your pardon?” Sunstorm said, clearly thinking his sensory processing was glitching. Jetfire was having that problem himself.

“You don’t think I can handle you both at once?” Starscream asked coquettishly, reaching out and drumming his claws on both Jetfire and Sunstorm’s cockpits. Jetfire’s processor obligingly sketched the image out for him, all sleek seeker frames and tempting wings. Primus. Sunstorm looked like he’d been hit in the face with a poleaxe for a moment, but recovered swiftly.

“I think that you are an ambitious Pit-spawn,” Sunstorm said dryly, and appropriated the hand. Turning it palm up, he pressed a kiss to the azure plating in a flash of fangs. Jetfire was now convinced that the two seekers had some kind of history together. Their optic contact was full of dark, intimate knowledge.

“I should-“ Jetfire said, abruptly feeling like a third wheel. Which was ridiculous, Starscream had kissed him _first_.

“Stay,” Starscream said, peremptorily. He switched his focus back to Jetfire, no doubt sensing weakness.

The knight slanted golden optics at him, still holding Starscream’s hand captured. “If you like,” Sunstorm purred, his low, soft voice inviting. Over comms, he said, _::I already have people looking into what he’s been doing. Help distracting him going forward would be welcome.::_

“I’m hallucinating,” Jetfire said faintly. Two deadly, and deadly gorgeous, fliers: luminous, dutiful Sunstorm whose splendid obliviousness to his admirers only made him more attractive, and adroit, dire Starscream who he could believe cut a wide swathe in company or combat. Starscream’s smirk gained in smugness, as if he’d heard Jetfire’s thoughts.

“You haven’t had him already, Sunstorm? For shame,” Starscream said teasingly, reclaiming his hand and wending both arms around Jetfire’s neck. His sharp grin was lost as he caught Jetfire’s mouth again. The shuttle lost himself in twining glossa and Starscream’s pleased little noises.

The seeker broke their kiss and cried out, arms tightening. Sunstorm had bitten a silver-detailed wing hard enough to dent. “Speaking like I’ve had an aerie of berth partners,” the knight chided.

Jetfire grabbed for sanity as his vents gaped wide. His fans were humming along audibly. “Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this in the middle of the hall.”

“ _Good_ idea,” Starscream approved. “I believe my berth is even big enough.”

~

The seeker was correct, it _was_ a big enough berth. Apparently a major diplomatic envoy perk, because the room Jetfire had been given wasn’t nearly so rich. Then again, the steelsilk tapestries and electrum gilding screamed “ostentation” so loudly that Jetfire wouldn’t have been able to recharge. From the ironic cant of Sunstorm’s wings, he felt the same way.

“Ascetic,” Starscream pronounced, optics on the other seeker as he draped himself invitingly over the berth, all coquettish wing-flutters.

“Or maybe I just have taste,” Sunstorm countered, finally turning from the drapery depicting Solus and Liege Maximo conversing with texts in hand, the femme Prime pointing to the heavens, the other with his outstretched hand palm-down. He indicated it and said, “The mural in Vigilem is much better.”

“I bring you here and you want to talk about art criticism,” Starscream said, pouting. Jetfire was once again conscious of the push and pull between them. He was hip deep in some kind of game between the seekers, but that didn’t change the way he _wanted_ them. In fact, it might even be what added the hot sharpness to it: they were letting him see something, and Jetfire was always dying to know _more_.

Dismissing the golden seeker, Starscream purred, “Jetfire.” He tilted his chin up, optics a deep garnet. He was very, very beautiful.

Instinct made him want to look over at Sunstorm for permission, but upon second thought, he doubted Starscream would like it. And besides, Sunstorm had already given it earlier. Jetfire took the invitation, planting a knee on the berth and lifting the smaller aerial effortlessly. White and scarlet plating heated like Starscream found that exciting, and Jetfire swallowed his moan down.

Claws scratched lightly at his shoulder vents. It made him shudder. Those delicate talons could slide deep into his substructure and touch all kinds of sensitive things. The seeker in his arms had other plans, however. A stinging bite to Jetfire’s lower lip broke the kiss, and then Starscream sank fangs into his throat cables. The shuttle yelped at the suddenness of it.

“Coilviper.” Sunstorm pinched one of Starscream’s silver-fretted wingtips hard, twisting until fangs released. Starscream hissed at him, mouth stained with energon. “I did not hear you asking first.”

“A little warning next time,” Jetfire interjected hastily, sensing that this could escalate into a full-blown argument if not headed off. “I don’t mind bites or scratches, but nothing that’ll bleed for more than a breem.” He was not going to break this up for anything less than a serious injury.

“See, he doesn’t mind,” Starscream prodded, then leaned in to lick the injury.

“You are terrible.” Sunstorm didn’t move despite his exasperation, sleek frame poised at Starscream’s back now. Waiting.

Starscream didn’t respond for a moment, lapping up the energon on Jetfire’s neck cables. Then, with insouciant grace, he pulled back and said something in Vosian. Jetfire didn’t speak Vosian, no matter that he had wings, but parts of it had come out of the Primal Vernacular and the glyphs remained parallel to their Neo-Cybex counterparts. Glyphs related to _vinctio_ often referred to restraint of some kind, but they were also a less-than-positive way to refer to a sparkbond. Either Starscream was threatening Sunstorm with chains, or…

_I want to know_ , Jetfire thought, tracing the bottoms of Starscream’s wings. The seeker in his arms purred at the touch. _I really, really want to know._

“Open,” Sunstorm leaned in and ordered against Starscream’s audial. Low. Intimate. A bondmate’s knowing tone.

The click of an interface panel and Starscream squirmed luxuriantly between them. Sunstorm had a quirk to his lips that bespoke pleased satisfaction; Jetfire pictured his graceful white fingers up to the knuckles in Starscream’s valve and felt his spike ache behind his panel.

“How…” Jetfire worked his jaw servos, then made himself continue. His cooling fans were running so hard he could feel them in his sparkchamber. “How are we doing this?”

“Oh, I think…” Starscream played with one of his shoulder seams, “your spike, my valve- ah!” Wetness dripped onto Jetfire’s thighs. Whatever the golden seeker was doing must have been good.

“Sunstorm?” Everybody should be on the same page; though if the two seekers really were bondmates, Sunstorm would be getting his regardless.

A kiss was pressed to the back of Starscream’s neck, Sunstorm’s gold-on-gold detailing gleaming. The prickly flier leaned into it, optics half-shuttered. “Ideal.”

A hand played across his spike panel. Jetfire muffled a groan into Starscream’s plating and let his spike pressurize into the waiting grip. Graceful fingers with just a hint of claws played over thin plating, testing heft and weight and then wrapped firmly around it. Then Starscream was kissing him again, and Jetfire couldn’t decide whether his glossa or his fingers were more clever. It was all he could do to balance with the weight of two seekers on him while Starscream launched processing into the stratosphere.

The kiss broke, and Jetfire blearily registered that Sunstorm had hauled Starscream back. “How would you like him?” Sunstorm asked, like he wasn’t discussing interfacing positions. “Beneath you, riding you, on your lap?”

Pit, Jetfire wouldn’t mind just _watching_. Sunstorm had shoved lubricant-slick fingers into Starscream’s mouth, otherwise the bossy seeker might have registered an opinion of his own. “On his back?” Jetfire suggested, optics on the full lips stretched around those white fingers. Starscream preened at the attention, fluttering red-striped wings in a flirtatious display.

Sunstorm nipped fondly at Starscream’s audial. “Excellent choice.” He pulled his hand free, Starscream making a lush noise. The red seeker smirked over his shoulder, then obliged Jetfire’s desire in a series of sensuous motions that displayed his frame to advantage. He spread his wings over the soft surface of the berth, wiggling his hips and spreading his white thighs.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Jetfire managed. Seekers were by no means dainty creatures; they were warbuilds, after all, but Jetfire knew he was a big mech.

Starscream scoffed. “I’m looking forward to this, don’t play shy now.” He licked glistening lips and hooked a pede around the shuttle’s knee joint.

Settling himself between those inviting thighs, Jetfire gripped a red hip. He lined himself up with the dark folds and pressed the head of his spike into wet, wet warmth. So slick, Primus, Sunstorm must be really good with his hands. He was able to thrust halfway in before he felt resistance and stopped.

This perfectly sensible precaution met with an impatient hiss and a twist of hips that made Jetfire slide a little deeper before he forcibly stopped the writhing.

“He likes it rough,” Sunstorm said, voice low with arousal, hands finding Jetfire’s wings. “Go hard.”

“Yes!” Starscream confirmed, all impatience.

_Hallucinating_ , Jetfire thought, the bright jet underneath him spread across the berth like platinum and jewels. Then he pushed forward sharply, watching Starscream arch.

Snarled encouragements spurred him on. He hit the end of Starscream’s valve, wrenching a hard noise out of him. He paused for a second, but Starscream hooked claws into his chest seams and tightened his knees. “Move, you overgrown airplane!”

“You,” Jetfire stopped holding onto his control so tightly and punctuated his words with motion, “Are. Damn. Loud!”

Sunstorm laughed. “You haven’t heard him overload yet.”

Starscream hissed at them, then arched again as Jetfire hit particularly sensitive nodes. The shuttle planted his knees and went after it, feeling Starscream clench and release around his spike every time he succeeded. Claws pricked at his protoform, traced tingling trails across his wings and back. Sunstorm’s cockpit glass was scraping along his engines.

Jetfire spared a hand from anchoring himself and sought the smaller form behind him. “Kiss me?” he asked breathlessly. He’d wanted to kiss the seeker knight for a long time. Sunstorm paused, then obligingly altered positions. He lips touched Jetfire’s audial, then his cheek, then Jetfire turned his head the rest of the way and kissed him properly.

It was a surprisingly sweet kiss while he was hilt deep in a panting, demanding seeker. Base coding kept his hips moving to the smaller aerial’s encouragement. By his noises, Starscream was enjoying himself thoroughly.

He could- yes. An arm around Starscream’s waist, and he lifted the seeker off of the berth without pulling his spike entirely free. The change of angle pulled a near-shriek from his lover’s vocalizer, then the red seeker really screamed when the force of reseating his spike meant he overloaded on Jetfire’s lap. Sunstorm made a choked noise, reeling from where Jetfire held him up.

He moved the hand he had on Starscream’s back up to fondle his wings, extending his overload with caresses to the sensitive plating. The smaller aerial’s voice sputtered to static as his valve squeezed around Jetfire’s spike.

The exquisite bowing of his backstrut and the hot clutch of his inner walls eased by degrees until Jetfire could gather a languid and compliant jet to his chassis. Sunstorm nuzzled Starscream’s dark cheek with hazy affection, then kissed along Jetfire’s chest armor.

“He’s _big_ ,” Starscream told Sunstorm, voice wobbling like he was overcharged.

“I noticed.” Warm satisfaction suffused his voice. “Think you can take another?”

“Oh, yeah.” Starscream licked his lips, tipping his chin up at the challenge. “I can take it _all_.”

“Hang on then,” Jetfire said, hand finding Starscream’s hip again.

What followed was half Starscream riding him and half Jetfire using his greater strength to mechhandle the seeker to his liking. With the overload easing the way, he wasn’t nearly as worried about causing harm to Starscream’s internals. The lining of his valve yielded to the near-brutality with ease, and even eagerness.

“Yes-yes-yes- _yes!_ ” Starscream lived up to his designation as he worked his way to a second overload with every twist of his hips. “ _Jetfire!”_

Jetfire slammed up into him with a bitten-off shout. He overloaded hard enough to glitch his optical feed into static. It cleared just in time for him to have a perfect view of Sunstorm delivering a hard bite to Starscream’s wing, pushing the seeker over the precipice as well. Apparently he’d wrecked his vocalizer enough; he was silent as he shook, mouth open.

They collapsed in a pile of mostly-white plating on the berth. Jetfire’s vents gaped to try and bring his core temperature down, which was difficult with an equally overheated seeker on his chassis and another draped over his arm and flank. His worries about Sunstorm being left out were apparently groundless. He looked very smug, optics half-shuttered. Starscream was wearing nearly the same expression, but with extra smirk.

“I have the _best_ ideas,” Starscream pronounced.

~

Jetfire woke from light recharge to low voices, but didn’t unshutter his optics. “…were _distracting_ me? How devious of you.” Starscream sounded amused and unbothered and halfway to recharge. He was still draped over Jetfire’s chestplates.

“It’s charming that you think I do not pick up on your tricks,” Sunstorm commented. He’d pushed himself up a little to rest his chin on Jetfire’s upper arm, but was also still tucked into the bigger aerial’s embrace. It made Jetfire’s spark warm. “Foolish, but charming.”

Starscream said with arch certainty, “You don’t worry me.”

Sunstorm hummed in amusement, then changed the subject. “You would like Crystal City. Lots and lots of creative freedom.”

“And people whose ideas I’ve stolen,” Starscream countered.

“And who have reverse-engineered yours. These things can be smoothed over.”

Starscream scoffed, then wiggled a little to get more comfortable lying on Jetfire. “Optimist.”

“I prefer ‘goal-oriented,’ but call it what you want.” Sunstorm also made himself more comfortable, pillowing his cheek on Jetfire. The shuttle liked the feeling of the two smaller aerials nestled against him.

Enough time passed that Jetfire thought they were done, before Starscream grudgingly said, “I’ll consider it.”


End file.
